Past the road ends sign
Green, green, green, then a sudden glorious red. Or a burst of sunshine through the branches turning yellow to gold. Visions like these have blessed my recent walks.
I don't stray far - no driving up north or to the local park - I just step out the door and keep walking, past the "Road Ends" sign. That's where the enchanting walk begins.
On our side, front yards are bare naked green lawns with a straggly tree or two...but once you slip past the "Road ends" warning, through the narrow gap in the barrier, you can see that sign-posters lied. Not only does the road not end, it becomes so much more beautiful, lined by tall maples, oaks, cottonwoods and conifers, summer home to blue jays, chickadees, robins, cedar waxwings, sparrows, goldfinches, nuthatches, cardinals (courtesy Merlin app). Now, as the year winds down, it's quiet with mostly just chirping crickets and the crunch of dry leaves. Just as I loved the joyful choral accompaniment to my walks in the summer, now I love the solemn silence. I love that the trees reach over the road in friendly benediction and shower leaves familiarly on my path, while the houses sit back humbly, occupying a fraction of their plots, as if to acknowledge that they are temporary and sharing, with the trees and birds and deer.
The houses on the other side of "Road ends" are each very different from one another. On our side, the same builders developed the whole subdivision. Although they built in some variation, as you walk around, the same several styles keep repeating. On their side, there is a jumble of new and old, tiny and large, shabby and smart. Most are one-story houses, low and close to the ground. One house,where Mike and Arlene live, has the air of a cottage from a story - especially now with crimson-orange trees towering over it and a sprinkling of leaves over its grey stone facade, circular driveway and four squat stone lamp posts lining the two outlets to the road. Right next to it is a house that sits far back on the property behind a long roughly cut lawn with a single wagon wheel marking the outlet to the road. On the other side of the road, a house at the end of a long meandering tree-lined driveway reminds me somehow of a tropical bungalow - maybe because of the large covered lived-in looking porch.
Not surprisingly, the neighborhood on the other side with more trees and more birds also has more young children, riding their bikes in the summer or running in groups from one yard to another. It also has a "little free library" that two small sisters, Kennedy and Avery, inaugurated one summer with flowers and toys placed around the books. "We are decorating the book house," the little one said to me as I walked by. Arlene's granddaughter loves playing with them when she visits..she doesn't want to go back to her own house, there are no children around.
When I look out my living room window while lounging on the couch with a book and a cup of tea, I see the big yellow sign warning "road ends" on top of a smaller red diamond indicating caution. But right next to it is a small gap that you can slip through.
I don't stray far - no driving up north or to the local park - I just step out the door and keep walking, past the "Road Ends" sign. That's where the enchanting walk begins.
On our side, front yards are bare naked green lawns with a straggly tree or two...but once you slip past the "Road ends" warning, through the narrow gap in the barrier, you can see that sign-posters lied. Not only does the road not end, it becomes so much more beautiful, lined by tall maples, oaks, cottonwoods and conifers, summer home to blue jays, chickadees, robins, cedar waxwings, sparrows, goldfinches, nuthatches, cardinals (courtesy Merlin app). Now, as the year winds down, it's quiet with mostly just chirping crickets and the crunch of dry leaves. Just as I loved the joyful choral accompaniment to my walks in the summer, now I love the solemn silence. I love that the trees reach over the road in friendly benediction and shower leaves familiarly on my path, while the houses sit back humbly, occupying a fraction of their plots, as if to acknowledge that they are temporary and sharing, with the trees and birds and deer.
The houses on the other side of "Road ends" are each very different from one another. On our side, the same builders developed the whole subdivision. Although they built in some variation, as you walk around, the same several styles keep repeating. On their side, there is a jumble of new and old, tiny and large, shabby and smart. Most are one-story houses, low and close to the ground. One house,where Mike and Arlene live, has the air of a cottage from a story - especially now with crimson-orange trees towering over it and a sprinkling of leaves over its grey stone facade, circular driveway and four squat stone lamp posts lining the two outlets to the road. Right next to it is a house that sits far back on the property behind a long roughly cut lawn with a single wagon wheel marking the outlet to the road. On the other side of the road, a house at the end of a long meandering tree-lined driveway reminds me somehow of a tropical bungalow - maybe because of the large covered lived-in looking porch.
Not surprisingly, the neighborhood on the other side with more trees and more birds also has more young children, riding their bikes in the summer or running in groups from one yard to another. It also has a "little free library" that two small sisters, Kennedy and Avery, inaugurated one summer with flowers and toys placed around the books. "We are decorating the book house," the little one said to me as I walked by. Arlene's granddaughter loves playing with them when she visits..she doesn't want to go back to her own house, there are no children around.
When I look out my living room window while lounging on the couch with a book and a cup of tea, I see the big yellow sign warning "road ends" on top of a smaller red diamond indicating caution. But right next to it is a small gap that you can slip through.
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